


Bitter Victory

by sapphicimplosion



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Fencing, Fighting, I miss Sam, M/M, Nate doesn’t reach the ship, Regret, enemies to lovers?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:42:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27530209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphicimplosion/pseuds/sapphicimplosion
Summary: Rafe Adler towered above Samuel Drake, the hilt of the fencing sword firm in his hand, pointed at the latter’s neck. Here was, finally with the upper hand, finally nearing victory. So why did it taste so bitter? Was it victory he really wanted or something else?
Relationships: Rafe Adler/Samuel Drake
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Bitter Victory

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, fell down the Uncharted loophole once more and I love me some good enemies to lovers angst so here’s this! I haven’t proof-read so apologies if there’s any typos :)

The surging flames overtook the ship in an almost tidal effort. The heat had fizzled out through the air, leaving a thick sheen of sweat on Samuel's face and the rancid taste of smoke in his mouth. The events that lead to this, him being pinned under a wooden beam with a blade held to his throat, replayed in his head like a sinister movie, a dance of sharp steel and swift salvation.

His hair was draping over his forehead like a curtain, partially shielding burnt-sienna eyes from the man before him. His chest was closing in, getting heavier, and he could feel his head get lighter against the hardwood flooring. Maybe it was the fumes, maybe it was a concussion. 

Raphael Adler for once towered above the much taller man, a cunning smirk on his face, masking how worn out he was from the combat they'd shared prior. His hand fit so comfortably around the handle of the fencing sword, chafed and smooth palms against rigid metal. Samuel's throat looked delicious glistening like that in the clementine gleam of what remained of the ship, and Rafe fought the urge to ever so slightly scrape it, watch scarlet mercury race down in an effort to escape the cusps of his flesh. 

Finally, after all those years, he had him. He finally had him, vulnerable and scared, cowering beneath him like a weakling; succumbing to his own cowardice. Rafe tilted his own head, studying Sam's eyes, watching the emotions in them dance, in those cesspool's of molten amber he'd always admired. He wanted to savor this, feel the gratifying fulfillment that came with FINALLY winning. 

So it was bound to be confusing to him when that fulfillment never came. 

He just stood there, his hand growing clammy against the hilt of his weapon, realizing that Samuel's breathing had slowed significantly and that he had fallen silent.

"What's wrong, Sammy? No clever quips today?" Rafe taunted, putting on a hateful sneer although tension had began to rise in the pit of his stomach.

Sam could feel the final traces of his consciousness begin to leave him. With the last of his strength, he turned over as best as he could under the weight of the beam, leant up, and smiled at Rafe, delicately shaking his head.  
"Rafe, you beautiful bastard, you won, dear god I don't know how you did it- he paused in between to hiss out in pain, god knows how many open wounds had littered his body by this point - but you did it,"

Rafe chuckled, tipping his chin up with the end of the blade, "Giving up so quick? What is it with you today?"

Sam just laughed, feeling the last of his senses give way to his injuries as he fell placid, mouth retracting back into a straight line from the smile, eyes closed. This was probably the most relaxed Rafe had ever seen Sam, no worry lines present, no crinkles, just peaceful Sam. That's when the panic settled in.

Rafe felt nothing but dread suddenly flow through his veins and seize control of every single one of his limbs. His hand gripped the end of his sword harder, eyebrows furrowing in determination. 

"Hey, hey get up, our fight wasn't over," Rafe said sternly, as if assuring himself that Sam was simply taking a nap. The latter did lay in silence, the kiss of death imprisoning his voice-box.

Dread turned into fear, as his face for the first time in almost a decade, dropped its mask. Raw fear had plastered itself on Rafe Adler's face, clear as day, green eyes darkened to a dark moss, hair fumbled across his head, contrary to how he usually kept it, slicked back and neat. 

He dropped to his knees beside the beam, instinct taking over as he cupped Sam's face in his hands. His flesh was soft, dotted with the slight sting of stubble across his slim jaw.   
"Hey, HEY! Get up, I said GET UP!" Rafe commanded, as if trying to speak to god himself and bargain for Sam. 

Rafe didn't understand. This is what he'd wanted all along. To finally emerge victorious and finally feel accomplished and yet all he felt right now was trepidation, his shirt drenched in sweat and regret. 

The dam broke, and tears began to pool in his eyes as he stared at the lifeless face before him, fingers still encapsulating his jaw.

"Get up! I said get up! It wasn't supposed to be like this, oh god, oh fuck," 

Tears streaming down his face as wretched agony took over. Rage coursed through his veins like magma, accompanied closely by grief.   
"I finally won, I finally won but you need to wake up," he begged, as if still believing that Sam was voluntarily deceased, "Samuel, Samuel come on, you don't even get Avery's treasure yet, your life-long dream"

"I don't know why I remember that, but you need to wake up, you need to finish the quest," 

"Please," 

The final word was drawn out like a quiet plea, as Raphael Adler, for the first time in his life, broke down into hacking sobs, clutching Samuel's blood drenched shirt. Splinters from where the beam had fallen on him had punctured his flesh, and he was already turning pale with a slight tint of blue as his chest lost circulation. 

"Please," Rafe begged again, "Please wake up god damn it, please," 

He began pounding his fists into the older man's chest, "Sammy, you have to get up, you still have to defeat me, we still have so much to- fuck Sam, 

I don't care about the fucking treasure, I care about you

It was always you, you were the chase, you were what kept me determined, you were it, Sam," 

"GET UP for fuck's sake, I'm nothing without you," 

He gave up, his hands still clutching fist-fulls of bloody cloth, as he let out an grievous scream. Guilt racking his body repeatedly as if hitting him with a giant bat. 

In a whirlwind of movement, Nadine somehow made it on board, tugging Rafe away from the scene. Rafe refused to leave Sam's side, kicking and screaming, his eyes bloodshot and the tears still flooding his face. Samuel lay still beneath the beam, tranquil. 

Rafe watched from a distance, as Avery's ship burst into flames taking down Sam with it. 

His mourning screams haunted Nadine, who'd never thought such emotional vulnerability even existed in Raphael Adler, who finally understood what made the victory so bitter-sweet, a tangerine tartness in the buttercream.


End file.
